


A Hierarchy of Needs

by oldseafarer



Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldseafarer/pseuds/oldseafarer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically, 5 times the team notices how out of touch Bruce is with "normal" life and the one time they realize that he's slowly growing accustomed to people again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hierarchy of Needs

**Author's Note:**

> From avengerkink Basically, 5 times the team notices how out of touch Bruce is with "normal" life and the one time they realize that he's slowly growing accustomed to people again.
> 
> I really likes this prompt and after writing it I realized that it sort of fit the stages of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.Basically there are five stages to being a happy and balanced person. 1) Physiological: food, sleep, etc. 2) Safety: security of body, life, etc. 3) Love/belonging: friendship, family, etc. 4) Esteem: self-esteem, respect of others, respect by others, etc. 5) Self-Actualization: creativity, spontaneity, acceptance of facts, etc.

_1\. Physiological_

 

            The building is empty and silent when Bruce slips into the lab around 3am. He prefers wandering the halls when he could be sure that he wouldn't run into any of the others. It wasn't that he wants to avoid the team; no, it's a courtesy. If he doesn't present himself to them, they don't have to flee. They don't have to hide their fear.

            Night turns to dawn and then to dusk without Bruce noticing. His ratty shirt is rolled up to his elbows and his glasses sit low on his nose. He scribbles notes on tablets that translate his handwriting into text. (There are some perks to working with Stark technology.)

            He doesn’t like to work in silence. (Silence is ominous. Silence precedes the screams. Silence says all the attention is on him.) He asks JARVIS to play background noise. The computer compiles a mix of the ocean waves and city streets. It plays just loud enough to match the sound of his pen on paper, or, you know, whatever the electronic equivalent was.

            The sounds are loud enough that he doesn’t hear the door slide open near midnight. His mind is full of equations and calculations. He doesn’t hear the footsteps entering the lab.

            Bruce hears the quietly cleared throat.

            He flinches and makes sure to take three deep breaths before turning around. “Yes?” He isn’t sure why he is calming himself down; obviously they need The Other Guy.

            Steve stands there with a soft smile on his face and a tray in his hands. “You’ve been in here for a while. I thought I would bring you some dinner. When was the last time you ate?”

            Bruce stares at the tray for a moment, unsure. “I—I don’t know.”

            “Well then, it’s time to eat. Come and sit down.” Steve puts the tray on a clear corner and pulls up two chairs.

            Two chairs.

            Steve sits down and Bruce still does not move.

            “I’m not going to bite,” Steve laughs, uncovering the plate. “And if you are worried about the food, don’t worry. Tony didn’t cook. It turns out we have a chef.”

            The doctor still hesitates, rocking back on his heels before approaching slowly. “What is it?”

            “Pasta something. I can’t remember the name, but it is good. You should definitely try it.” Steve’s smile is encouraging and open and Bruce cannot see any fear in his eyes.

            He sits down.

            “So, what are you working on? Any chance you can explain in layman’s terms for me?”

            (Is this what dinner is supposed to be? Food with a friend interested in your work?)

            He waits for the other shoe to drop and answers quietly.

 

_2\. Safety_

 

            It isn't the most arduous of missions, but any transformation into the Other Guy always exhausts Bruce. After debriefing and changing in the soft clothes provided by SHIELD, he falls asleep on the couch almost as soon as he returns.

            Later, a soft weight falls across his body and Bruce jerks awake. He is sitting upright and reaching his bag before he realizes that he isn’t in India anymore. No one is trying to rob him in his sleep.

            “I did not mean to wake you.” Thor rumbles from the foot of the couch. His hands are still outstretched and he detracts them slowly. “I did not mean to frighten you, doctor.”

            Bruce rubs his eyes. He puts his hand down and feels the blanket covering his legs. There had not been a blanket on the couch when he had fallen asleep. “Did you put this one me?” He glances up at Thor.

            Thor nods slowly and cautiously. “Yes. You were shivering. Was that not right? Did I cross a boundary?” He speaks carefully as if repeating something stated to him.

            He realizes that Thor’s hesitation comes from his own actions, not fear of the Other Guy. Bruce’s hand tightens around the blanket. He consciously tries to soften his expression. “No, no it’s fine.”

            Thor’s face relaxes and he smiles. “You should go back to sleep. Rest is important and you do not get enough of it.”

            As Bruce lies back down, blanket pulled up onto his shoulders, he wonders at what just happened. How would Thor know how much sleep he got? Someone had noticed how exhausted he was?

            As he doses off he hears conversation from the other room.

            “The doctor sleeps again,” Thor rumbles.

            “Aw man Thor, did you wake him up?” Tony whispers loudly.

            “I put a blanket on him and he awoke.”

            “Shit.”

            “Tony…” Steve quietly scolds.

            “Guys, if our goal is to get Bruce to rest, shouldn’t we continue this conversation somewhere we won’t bother him?” Clint says and a few moments later there is the gentle click of a door closing.

            Bruce tugs the blanket tighter and drifts off warm and comfortable.

 

_3\. Love_

 

            Bruce sighs as his shirt rips again. He would need to ask JARVIS if there was a sewing kit around. Over the years he had gotten pretty handy with a needle and thread. (Sewing up shirts is a lot easier than sewing up flesh but he has done both.)

            “That should be thrown out.” Natasha announces from the other side of the room. He isn't in the lab, but in a sitting area near windows. “You were wearing that when I found you.”

            “No, no, it is fine. I can fix it.” Bruce clutches the two edges together as if their nearness would incite them to re-stitch.

            “Regardless of whether or not you can fix it, that shirt does not deserve to be saved.” She stands in expensive high heels and a fashionable outfit. She has the income to buy new clothes.

            Bruce doesn't and he isn’t quite sure how to say that.

            “I like this shirt.” He says eventually, a poor excuse that Natasha sees through instantly.

            She does not push the issue and leaves without a second word.

            That night Bruce is sitting at the kitchen table with a book and some tea when four bags are placed in front of him. His flinches are less dramatic now and marginally less frequent.

            He eyes the labels on the bags. “Did my shirt inspire you to go shopping?”

            “Yes.” Natasha starts unpacking them.

            He realizes that these are all men’s clothes. “You didn’t—“

            “I had to guess the sizes, but I have a pretty good eye.” She arches an eyebrow as if to demonstrate.

            “I really don’t need—“

            “It isn’t a matter of need, doctor.” Natasha pauses to look at him. “You aren’t in the slums anymore. You don’t have to dress like you are.”

            “I don’t need charity.”

            “It isn’t charity. It is a gift.” She smiles (it seems genuine) and runs a hand across a pair of pants. “If accepting gifts is hard for you, I understand. Until recently gifts were never innocent. They were bribes or payments--- _this_ is not that.”

            Bruce gapes at her and eventually sputters, “You have to let me pay for it.”

            “That is unnecessary.” She walks away and smiles (this time smugly) over her shoulder. “I used Stark’s credit card.”

            Natasha leaves him with more new clothes then he has had since the accident. He hopes that the Other Guy won’t ruin too many of them. Bruce touches the shirts and marvels at the feeling of new clothing. Not new used clothing, but things that had been unworn before him.

            Perhaps it is time for a wardrobe change.

 

 

_4\. Belonging_

            “Bruce! Bruce! I know you can hear me!  You have been avoiding my calls and text messages.” Tony’s voice blared through the speakers in the lab. “What—do you want sky writing? Because I can do that you know.”

            Bruce takes of his glasses and rubs his eyes. “JARVIS can you mute him?”

            “No, sir.”

            “Then I will just leave—“

            The door slides open and Tony walks in eyebrows raised. “See? I knew you could hear me. And you were going to leave? Shame on you. Abandoning your fellow scientist in his time of need.”

            He takes a deep breath. “What do you need, Tony?”

            “I have an epic adventure planned and I want you to come with me. See, I was thinking that we head over to California and blow some stuff up. I have some new chemical compounds that I need to test out. I have desert that is perfect for it. Or we could prank Cal Poly; they always deserve it. Plus my last three interns from there were annoying. And then maybe we soak up some sun on the beach, maybe take my boat out for a bit…”

            “That is your epic adventure?”

            Tony looks offended. “You haven’t seen the size of these explosions yet. Also, my boat is amazing. Honestly you have never seen a boat so amazing. It can go so fast that I am pretty sure that we could get to China in twenty minutes. Tops.”

            “And no one else can go?”

            “What?” He had wandered over to Bruce’s calculations and was examining them. “Oh I don’t know. I didn’t ask them.”

            “You didn’t?” It doesn’t make sense.

            “No of course not.” Tony makes a few edits and throws the screens around. “I wanted to do something with you.”

            “Why?” The question escapes Bruce. He winces and turns away.

            Tony pauses and approaches. “Because none of them can appreciate the science of it all.” He pokes Bruce in the side and twirls the pen in his fingers. “And you haven’t seen my Malibu mansion yet. Trust me that alone is worth the flight.”

            A small smile creeps onto Bruce’s lips. “Does Pepper need you out there for some company stuff?”

            Tony gasps and clutches a hand to his arc reactor. “No! How could you say such a thing? I am offended.” He sniffs dramatically. “As if I would try to avoid important company business. How dare you.”

            “So is it a shareholders meeting or something…”

            Tony shrugs. “Or something. I don’t know. Pep is always yelling at me to show up for something. Whatever, come on let’s go have a vacation.”

            Bruce leans against the table and crosses his arms. “I don’t think we are allowed to do that. We have to save the world, remember?”

            “We can fly back in time.” Tony waves dismissively and slings an arm around Bruce’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go have some fun.”

            He lets himself be lead away. He lets himself enjoy the warmth of a friendship knowing that it won’t last, but perhaps it is better to sit close to the fire when it is burning then sit in the cold while you wait for winter.

 

_5\. Esteem_

 

            It is a team dinner he supposes.  Bruce doesn’t really understand the dynamics but he is sitting at a kitchen table with an empty plate in front him. Tony and Steve are arguing about something across the table. Thor and Natasha are having a discussion about something to do with Jane. There is no reason for him to linger, not really. He had things to work on; he was close to figuring out that vaccine.

            Bruce starts to stand up.

            “No, you stay. I’ve got it.” Clint reaches over him and grabs his plate.

            He hides his flinch and protests, “You really don’t have to, I can wash my own—“

            “Seriously. Stay.” The archer grins. “I didn’t help cook and rinsing a plate before putting it in the dishwasher is definitely within my limited skill set.”

            “I didn’t cook either, so—“ Bruce tries to stand up again.

            “So you can do the dishes next time.” Clint shrugs like it is obvious. “Enjoy the conversation. I think Thor and Nat are talking about lingerie. Clearly someone is aiming to get some tail later.” He winks and continues to clear the table.

            “Thank you.” Bruce murmurs and settles into the chair.

            “Steve shut up you were asleep for all of this.” Tony waves his hand in the air. “Table answer me this: who won the Cold War?”

            From the kitchen Bruce can hear Clint say, “Oh god.”

            Thor wrinkles his forehead. “What is this Cold War you speak of? Do you mean the war against the Jotunheim? That glorious victory belongs to my father! Asgard won that battle when Odin—“

            “No no, Thor I am talking about America verses Russia. Who won in the end?” A smirk sits on Tony’s lips and he very carefully doesn't look at Natasha.

            She leans forward on her elbows. Natasha narrows her eyes at Tony. “You are baiting me.” She states eventually.

            Tony flutters his eyelashes. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

            Thor and Steve exchange a glance. “We don’t know either.” Steve starts slowly. “Didn’t I learn that the Soviet Union didn’t exist anymore?”

            Bruce is glad that he gets to witness this. He appreciates that he isn’t hidden in his lab again.

            Natasha licks her lips and her gaze flicks towards the kitchen door. “You all have read my file. You know what he is referring to.”

            Bruce watches as Steve remembers Natasha’s past. “You were a Soviet spy, right?”

            “Yes.” She fingers her fork like she wants to shove it in Tony’s eye. “You want me to say Russia won.”

            “Did they?” Tony leans back in his chair with a smile.

            “America didn’t win?” Steve seems honestly confused and Bruce takes pity on him.

            “The Cold War was not a real war. It consisted of tensions between America and the Soviet Union for decades. There wasn’t a winner.” He clarifies. Bruce thinks probably shouldn’t be getting involved. But while he can respect Tony’s courage for teasing Natasha, he doesn’t want anyone to die tonight.

            “I disagree.” Clint had re-entered the room with a towel in his hands. “I know who the winner is.”

            “Who?” Tony demands.

            “Me, you idiot.” Natasha rolls her eyes and does something that tips Tony’s chair back so far that he falls to the ground.

            Everyone laughs including Tony and Bruce is very glad he stayed.

 

 

_+1 Self Actualization_

 

            One morning the team finds a note taped to the refrigerator. On a torn piece of graph paper is a request that everyone stay in for dinner. Bruce is planning a surprise.

            They all show up around seven as instructed and the smells from the kitchen draw them to the door.

            “You’re cooking for us?” Tony sounds delighted.

            Bruce shrugs, one towel tossed over his shoulder and an apron tied around his waist. “I figured you guys have never had real Indian food before.”

            “I came close once.” Natasha shrugs, hip against one counter. “But I finished the mission during drinks.”

             Steve seems confused and asks, “Why didn’t you stay and finish dinner?”

            The assassin raises her eyebrows.

            “ _Oh_. That kind of mission.” He blushes and is morally conflicted.

            Natasha laughs. “I didn’t kill the guy, I just stole a ruby the size of your eye off his neck.” She pats Steve’s arm and his expression fades into relief.

            “So what is this then?” Clint had slipped in and was lifting a spoon towards his mouth.

            “It’s a kind of curry.” Bruce gently takes the spoon from him. “If you guys will set the table we can eat.”

            In a bustle of movement the team is seated around the table scooping rice and curry on to their plates.

            Tony takes the first bite and makes a noise that causes Steve to blush again. “That’s it.” He says around a mouthful of food. “We are firing the chef and you are cooking every night.”

            Thor nods. “I like this curry. It has more flavor than most Midgardian food.”

            “It’s really spicy.” Steve’s eyes tear up and he gulps his water.

            Bruce chuckles and pushes the yogurt towards him. “Add some of this, it will help. I have to admit it is an acquired taste.”

            Natasha and Clint are silent as they eat but are the first to serve themselves seconds.

            Bruce eats slowly. It is the first time he cooked for others.

            “So, Bruce.” Tony wipes his mouth and tosses the napkin onto the table sometime later. “Have you decided to stop hiding and rejoin humanity?”

            He smiles. “I am not sure you can really consider present company humanity.”

            “Okay, sure. We _are_ a unique bunch.” Tony allows. “We have you with your anger management issues, Fabio the thunder god, a capiscle, an old lady and me, a genius. I mean, Clint is only wholly human here. Ow.” A peanut bounces off his forehead. “What was that for? It isn’t a bad thing! I mean sure you are the most weak and vulnerable but—hey stop throwing peanuts at me!”

            Everyone laughs and Bruce thinks to himself, _yes. This is family. This is community._ And for once he trusts himself enough to relax fully.


End file.
